


Deja Vu

by airspaniel



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Amnesia, M/M, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-24
Updated: 2007-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-19 12:38:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airspaniel/pseuds/airspaniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief encounter, or something that has happened before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deja Vu

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here.](http://yumemiru-kikai.livejournal.com/13255.html)

The skin under his hands is burning hot, darker than his own; dark as the night itself.

The man arches underneath him, pulling him impossibly close. He should be lost in this moment, lost in those hands that wander possessively over his back, in those dark eyes that see so deeply into his own.

But he is lost in memory instead.

He thinks it is memory, anyway, the way the Haitian's breath hitches when Mohinder runs elegant fingers down his chest. The way the man gasps when Mohinder sinks teeth into his earlobe and how that sound seems so idiosyncratic, so out of place in the mouth of this creature of poise and control.

Mohinder is not sure what is past and what is present, only that he wants to hear as many wild noises out of this man as he can.

"I remember you," he pants, hips rolling against the hard, trapped line of the Haitian's erection. "I don't know how, but I... We've done this before."

A large hand rests on his lower back, pressing them tightly together, but preventing any further movement. Mohinder moans softly, eyes slipping shut at the intensity of feeling.

"Yes," And even that one syllable is fluid, musical; and Mohinder is hypnotized. The Haitian traces gentle fingers along the doctor's face, tracing one delicate cheekbone up and along the line of his jaw. "We have done this before. It has been a very long time."

"I can't..." Mohinder fights for the words, fights to capture the thought that hovers on the very edge of his consciousness. "I can't remember..." He kisses the Haitian desperately, trying to pull the memory out of the man's mouth with ardent lips and searching tongue. The Haitian kisses back just as fiercely, as if he just as dearly wanted to give that knowledge back.

"What has been taken cannot be restored." he murmurs, breaking the kiss. His strong hands grip Mohinder's hips as he reverses their positions, rolling the doctor to his back. "But new memories can be forged in place of that which is missing. If you want them."

"God, I want them," Mohinder sighs, "I want you. Please..."

"As you wish," The Haitian replies, smiling cryptically, pressing a slick finger against Mohinder's entrance.

Mohinder cries out, head thrown back against the pillows as the Haitian gently works him open. He is in no hurry, it seems, dark eyes clear and lucid and staring at Mohinder in something like awe. Something like reverence.

"Please," Mohinder begs, not knowing why he is so affected, but knowing he needs this man now. Now and again and again until this curious hunger in him is sated. If it ever can be.

The Haitian quirks an eyebrow as if to say "patience is a virtue," but wastes no time in drawing the doctor's leg up against his chest, and pressing forward in a torturously slow, smooth movement that leaves both of them breathless.

And Mohinder feels complete for the first time he can remember.

The pace does not stay gentle; it cannot, fueled by such intense need and desire. Every sharp thrust of the Haitian's hips drives the breath from Mohinder's body, forcing his voice out in pants and moans and wild pleas for more. Harder. Oh god, don't stop, please don’t stop...

The Haitian's breathing is ragged, low growls escaping his throat when Mohinder arches up, long fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulders as the man struggles to hold on.

They come together, simultaneously reaching that peak of ecstasy; that moment when there is no past, no future, no time but here and now and absolute bliss whiting out the senses. For a moment, they lay panting against each other, Mohinder’s rapid heartbeat thrumming like drums against the Haitian’s cheek. Then those dark hands encircle his face once more, soothing and threatening in equal measure, and Mohinder is afraid.

“Not again. Please. I… I don’t want to forget.” his voice is soft and broken, and he knows his words will have no effect, the same as he knows that this isn’t the first time he’s said them.

The Haitian’s expression is sorrowful, but resolute. “Soon there will be a day when you do not have to.” He strokes a hand through Mohinder’s hair, down the side of his face, and he holds his breath when the doctor turn his head to press a tender kiss into his palm.

“But today is not that day. I am sorry, Mohinder.”

\-----

Mohinder wakes with a stiff neck, propped at an awkward angle against the headboard. He must have fallen asleep reading again, although he can’t seem to find the book.

The rain outside has made the air strangely cold, and he curls up in the blankets, wondering why he chose to sleep naked the night before. Something doesn’t add up, and he can’t figure it out. It’s like… like something’s missing.

He chalks it up to early morning disorientation and rolls over, sure that after a couple hours of sleep everything will be all right.

As he drifts off, he thinks of warm dark skin, and strong hands that hold him as if he might break. Absently, he wonders what that might mean.


End file.
